One Ring
by Dahlias
Summary: Time slipped through fingers but for him… for one lone man who looked on the cusp of manhood time was eternal... - LotR Crossover Xover Complete -


**Summary:** Time slipped through fingers but for him… for one lone man who looked on the cusp of manhood time was eternal... **HPLotR Xover**

**Pairing:** None

**Disclaimor:** I own nothing from the Hp/LotR series. I'm just using and abusing the characters for my very sick pleasure :)

A/N: Completed, no dialogue, and this just sets the tone for future Xovers that are in my mind, nothing epic, Merlin no, but little one-shot scenes... maybe, no promises. I know nothing about LotR only from and the movies which I haven't watched in a LOOOOONG time so :)

* * *

**ONE RING**

_Dahlias_

**.**

**_Three Rings_ for the Elven-kings under the sky, **

**_Seven_ for the Dwarf-lords in their halls of stone,**

**_Nine_ for Mortal Men doomed to die,**

**_One_ for the Dark Lord on his dark throne**

**In the Land of Mordor where the Shadows lie.**

**One Ring to rule them all, One Ring to find them,**

**One Ring to bring them all and in the darkness bind them**

**In the Land of Mordor where the Shadows lie.**

.

Time had very little meaning; in fact time meant hardly anything at all. There once was a time when time was filled with laughter and plenty of smiles but that soon faded into tears and sadness that stretched into lonliness. It was lonely to live the rest of your immortal days with no one but memories. You could remember the friends, the jokes, the hugs, you can remember the times of greatness but now… now there was a void.

Like sand falling from the cracks of fingers, time came and went, the days into nights and nights into days, there was no break, no illness or pains to pass the time only memories of a life so long ago. He could remember the days when he was filled with fear, the prospect of death was constant, the rejoicing when death had been concurred for another time… but like all things it must come to an end. Lives were lived and like the natural order of life the next greatest adventure was inevitable but it was unfair. Time slipped through fingers but for him… for one lone man who looked on the cusp of manhood time was eternal.

He remembered a nightmare who went by the name of Voldemort, the name was familiar even after all these years but the emotions tied to that one name and all it included had dulled and was just memories that seemed as if they were figments of his imagination at times. Voldemort's one goal was to remain eternal… well, eternal life was eternal damnation. There was nothing glorious about living 'forever'; there was nothing _glamorous_ or _nifty_ about it. Eternal Life was boring, dull, tiring, and most of all lonely.

Friends came and went until you simply give in to the fact that friendship lead to heartache in the end, you live and they die, there was no going around it, even magical creatures had their 'time'. Sadly, even phoenixes decide to cross over… but sadness could never outweigh the memories of those happy days. The nostalgia of it all… he could remember the days of rising and wondering if this would be the day his life would end, the days of adrenalin and the constant need to survive.

The good old days so unlike the days of today and tomorrow where waking up was harder and harder but you did because there was no choice. The beauty of the sun rising and setting had lost its appeal after a while, the eclipses admittedly did hold ones attention and the occasional meteor shooting across the sky but other than that the days were spent tilling the land surrounding a single hut on land stretching for as far as the eye could see.

He didn't want to know what the world did with its time, he didn't need to entrench himself in the lives of mortals who were flighty and ruined the good, even now as he patted the dirt around the seeds for his vegetables he could feel the strain of magic the earth held. It was a scary thought that nagged at him at times… was he the last wizard alive? Had the squabbles of Pureblood's simply died out with inbreeding and squibs? Somewhere the answer was startling and probably unsurprising but his curiosity for this silly thought didn't force him to retrieve answers.

The world of today and yesterday was so… _different_. Brushing his hands together he stood with a satisfied air, gardening had taken a whole new meaning and he was proud of the stretch of garden he mostly used not only for himself but to feed the animals that had wandered onto his property. Walking off to the side of his home a contraption of wood and bit of metal stuck up from the ground and the lever, with a bit of magic, pumped itself. Clean and cold water squirted out, just enough to rinse dirt covered hands and beneath the grime glinted a gold ring that was the cause of all this trouble.

Voldemort truly was a fool. The key to immortality wasn't that of rituals to separate the soul or the stone of an elixir but a simple gold ring that had been buried deep within the bowels of the Black Vaults. They said curiosity had killed the cat… death was a commodity and he wished for it but his curiosity had ended his life in a way. He had to endure the rest of his days looking as he did, he had watched friends of old whither and pass, he had cursed the ring, cursed his own curiosity that screamed for him to place it on his finger all those years ago… a stupidity that even years down the road was still with him.

A part of him had always known that the ring was more than a ring that granted him a true immortal life, the ring held a life of its own, an influence over himself but he was of strong mind and even from the beginning with his stubborn self he had eventually mastered the will of the ring and had truly and irrevocably owned the ring. Yet even as he knew that the ring belonged to him he knew he belonged to the ring.

His immortality was linked to the simple band of gold. To prove that his will was strong he made a habit at times to pull the ring off his finger and leave it in a place hidden away from invisible eyes, he walked about, read, wrote, ate, and slept, for days upon days he continued with this routine until a day came and he couldn't step out the door without turning around and taking back his ring, triumphant in his own mind that he could part with something so simple and larger than a single thing.

In his mind he held no doubt he could conquer his need for the ring, he smiled and celebrated in his own way that he was still strong of mind and will… even with the strength he so desperately believed in he was still a slave, a slave to the all consuming power and need of the ring. He may have mastered the ring but he had grown dependent on it, the familiarity of it, the simple fact that it was the one constant in his life.

The ring was his companion when there was no one else. Immortal or mortal all held flaws whether you chose to see it or not and he didn't see or want to see this one major flaw, whether he knew deep down or not it wouldn't cross his mind for if it did the ring itself would shove it further down and _comfort_ it's master for even a ring as old as it was grew wary and wanted.

Immortality was a fragile thing, there were consequences and then there were the 'loopholes'. Over the many years he had silently complained about his _infliction_ but through those years he never once considered ridding himself of the ring… for the ring gave him his problem and to get rid of the _problem_ one would need to remove it and neither himself or the last bearers of the ring had the will to do so…

.

So the day came and it came with unease and trepidation. What could cause such feelings, even the ring itself pulsed and the barer stared down at his hands on odd occasions throughout the morning until he was to set foot out the door a sudden urge swept through him and he sucked in a breadth – something was coming, something big. With an adrenaline he had not felt in years he rushed around in his home, his dusty sack that hung from a hook in the cupboard was fanned out several times before filled with _necessities_.

On a shelf between preserved fruits and a half eaten jar of fresh peanut butter (hand churned) were several tiny chests and an even tinier much neglected book, all fit in the palm of his hand which he quickly emptied half hazardly into his sack. Moving on to the cold box he pulled out the many already prepared meals that were sealed in a plastic wrap and charmed for freshness, he also grabbed the heavy basket of fresh fruit and simply poured it in first then settled the meals atop.

Urgency called to him and he moved even quicker to look through several drawers before he pulled out a mirrored flask that was polished and designed… the wooden planks beneath his feet trembled and he hurriedly made his way to the sink and held his hand steady as cold water poured into the flask, more than it could normally hold flowed in without problem and a minute passed then another, each stretching as if they were hours instead of a clump of seconds.

Stillness… the water stopped abruptly, the trembling beneath his feet ceased and his hearing muffled for but the briefest seconds and in his minds eye he saw. He watched as he stuffed the canister inside the sack and walked around his sparse furnishing to the very still outside. He didn't need to see where his steps lead him, after all this time he knew his way in and out of his home so it wasn't a great difficulty. Blinking furiously he hoped himself wrong, he hoped what he saw was merely a figment of his imagination but a part of him knew… just knew…

Eyes drifting upward he saw nothing but blue skies, it seemed like any other day, the clouds were here and there, the sun was off to the distance in the opposite direction of his sight but his sight blurred and he wasn't staring up into his sky, into his light, he stared directly at ball of flames that brightened the night and hid the stars. His heart pounded furiously and his breathing quickened, it was a giant rock… a meteor was falling and falling… falling… consumed by flames… it wasn't going to stop… falling… falling… **BOOM**!

He watched as the meteor struck a ghost city, it was his first glimpse of 'society' and there was emptiness, a sadness that he felt even through his sight. There was a bright flash of light and a wave of destruction built upwards and with a rumbling groan released in all directions. The sack in his hand slipped from numb fingers… he had lived for many years, too many to count, but never had he thought he would live for as long as the earth itself, his home, and he was sure, as sure as he stood on that patch of grass that this was the end.

A true end.

The ground trembled but he stood there, whether it would be minutes or hours he was determined to face his death, what a concept, with open eyes and relief. Staring out into the distance he no longer saw the destruction but his property he had nurtured and protected, he wondered for a brief moment where were his animals that grazed at his land and that thought was quickly followed by a hope for them to have a quick and painless death.

His eyes fluttered as something warm and pleasant spiked through him, from the bottom of his shoes to the highest peak of hair that stood on end… magic… but… the floor trembled beneath him, not the soft trembles of before that were cautious but a disorienting sort. Balancing himself he saw the ground around him crack and crumble, the lines of the earth were no longer intact instead he witnessed a sight in all his years he had never witnessed.

The trees in the distance groaned and creaked as they swayed forcibly before the ground beneath them crumbled, the once lush green grass became scorched as invisible waves of heat rose and blanketed the earth. Jumping aside he watched in horror as the ground he had stood on seconds before crumbled and fell, a gust of heat mushroomed upwards and burned at his skin. Stretching out his hand he silently summoned his sack that was seconds from falling but before it could even touch his skin he let out a shout as he fell.

His body fell feet first and he couldn't help but force his body to spread out, his front facing below and what a sight it was. The hot air burned, he could feel it redden his skin and scorch at his clothes but it wasn't unbearable which was odd because he was headed directly into a pit of moving molten lava. Falling ever closer he decided…. This wasn't a bad way to go. With a small smile he flipped his body to stare upward and noted that the once blue sky had darkened considerably, with a salute he flipped his body once again instead this time he was head first.

Ever closer he wondered whether he should close his eyes or leave them open? On a whim he stared at the river of bubbling fire and couldn't help but watch as the lava churned and an image appeared… an image of a giant dark red eye. It was odd, the flow of the river obviously considered it an obstruction since it parted around it and with just seconds to spare the ring on his finger tightened. Closing his eyes the last he saw was darkness and felt an unimaginable amount of pain for a prolonged second before it all went numb.

**END**… or is it?


End file.
